


By the End of the Night

by luvsev



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-28 12:14:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6328696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luvsev/pseuds/luvsev
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No risk, no reward</p>
            </blockquote>





	By the End of the Night

***

“This doesn’t seem safe! There aren’t any safety belts or doors or or or…” Molly eyed the motor bike skeptically, keeping far away from it -- several feet in fact, on the other side of the kerb, next to a nice sturdy lamppost that hadn’t yet flickered to life in the dying light. 

“Mmm. That’s the point, darling. What’s life without a little risk?” Irene purred, lifting Molly’s chin with her forefinger and thumb, then flashed a sultry smile. She stepped none too gently into the street, thigh high leather boots avoiding remnants of yesterday’s rain, and settled a hand on a shining silver handlebar as she reached for a jacket. 

More leather, of course. And it fit her like a second skin, dipping with her curves, silver gleaming at her throat, left arm, and waist. Molly bit her lip to ignore the fluttering in her stomach, the memory of Irene’s soft, graceful hands, her fingers long and dextrous, tipped in poisonous red… what they could do to her, if she’d only allow it. 

“Coming?” Irene asked, straddling the bike, then kicked the engine to life. Its roar pierced Molly’s reverie. 

“Er…” Irene tossed her a helmet, which she deftly caught. Fuck it, might as well. 

“Now, swing your leg over to straddle the bike. Do you feel the vibration between your legs?” 

Molly gave a whimper. 

“Just sit a moment, enjoy its power. When you’re ready to go, put your chin on my shoulder and your arms around my waist.” 

She listened to Irene, her throaty voice barely audible above the engine. Irene turned again, donning her helmet, and gestured for Molly to do the same. 

“Good girl. Now hold on tightly.” 

Darkness fell as they zipped along busy streets, but Molly noticed very little about the surroundings or the scent of petrichor clinging to the outskirts of the city. Lithe curves, leather, and heat filled her senses and muddled all but the basest of thoughts. 

“In?’ Molly whispered once the engine fell silent, removing her helmet. 

“A nightcap, yes. Forget the whiskey.” 

“I’ve something else in mind anyway.” 

“Do tell.” Irene pulled Molly inside, pressing her against the door to close it. 

“You. Tangled in my sheets.” Breath hot on her neck, then a damp trail where a clever tongue traced the jugular. A nip of teeth to tug on her lips. Door knob pressed into her back, a slight shift to avoid it before meeting another demanding kiss. Her hands roam Irene’s curves, bringing her closer. Before Molly knows it, Irene has her jumper over her head and is playing havoc with her nipples with her teeth -- a graze that’s barely enough and too much at the same time. She reached to unzip Irene’s skirt but had her hands redirected.

“Later,” Irene gently corrected, a hand snaking between Molly’s still-clothed thighs. “So hot. I bet you’re dripping.” 

Molly licked her lips. “Maybe,” she replied noncommittally. “Take them off and find out.” 

“Cheeky.” Irene unzipped the jeans for Molly to shimmy out of, and saw the visible damp spot on her undies. “I’ve got your ‘maybe’.” She slid her fingers beneath the band and dipped between the slick labia to her clit, brushing it lightly. 

Molly let out a ragged breath as Irene stroked her, fast, slowly, fast again. Her knees trembled as she felt the onset of her orgasm. Irene stopped, and Molly keened. So close. 

“Not this soon, love.” Irene suckled Molly’s juices from her fingers, slowly, as if to savor it. She left her forefinger damp and traced Molly’s lower lip. Molly reflexively licked it. “So eager. Lead the way to your bedroom.”

**Author's Note:**

> Written for come-at-once community on LJ, to the prompt of: Hold on tight.


End file.
